


rise with fortune

by plingo_kat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Businessman Noctis, M/M, Plotty, good guy dingus nyx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plingo_kat/pseuds/plingo_kat
Summary: “I was actually asking why you were late this morning,” Libertus says slowly. “But sure, we can talk about your sexual crisis.”





	1. meet cute

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt at the ffxv kmeme: "Modern AU where Nyx works for Regis (company/yakuza maybe?) and later meets Noct - a guy who is at least 15% more fuckable than your average joe. Thankfully, the interest is mutual, and they end up having an awesome night of sex. It's so good that they agree to keep it up, and pretty soon, Noct's sweet ass becomes a pretty regular fixture in his apartment.
> 
> Cue someone making the discovery that Nyx Ulric is fucking the big boss's son. Where it goes after that is up to anon.
> 
> Optional Bonuses: Noctis initiating the whole affair, Noct being a general cocktease and loving that D, Papa Wolf Regis wanting to go ballistic on Nyx even though Nyx is one of his best employees"
> 
> \---
> 
> This somehow grew a plot, so I'm collating parts as they become long enough to make up actual chapters.

i.

“Look,” Nyx says, dodging around pedestrians as he trots down the city streets. “It’s not like I kill people for a living, all right? I’m a _guard_. I guard things.”

“You’re basically part of a private army!” His sister’s voice comes in tinny over the cell and background noise of traffic. “I can’t believe the Caelum Corporation is even allowed to maintain such a large contingent of ‘bodyguards.’”

“I can _hear_ your air quotes,” Nyx says. He darts across a crosswalk as the crossing guard counts down to zero, red cactuar glaring at him accusingly. “It’s my job and I like it, okay? Mister Caelum is a great guy. You’ve heard him speak, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, rehearsed speeches for press conferences. Like that’s going to tell me anything.”

“Hessy.” Nyx pauses to gesture vaguely at nothing. “I’m not going to quit. But I’ll come home this weekend for a visit so you can see I’m still alive.”

A sigh. “Fine. And you better not get hurt!”

“No promises,” Nyx laughs, and ends the call before Hessy can retort. It’s too bad that he’s in a hurry, he thinks absently. They didn’t even get around to the name calling -- when one of you is named Hesperos and the other is designated after the goddess of the night, the teasing is practically an obligation. “Geez, I’m so late.”

Fortunately for him, Drautos isn’t there when he ducks into the west auxiliary building of the Caelum Insomnia campus.

“Lucky,” Libertus confirms in an undertone as Nyx sidles up to him, tugging his uniform back into its neatly pressed lines. “The Captain’s running late today too. Here, I got you a coffee.”

“You’re a fucking lifesaver,” Nyx sighs. He takes the proffered cup and slaps Libertus’ shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure, sure.” Libertus flaps a hand. “You owe me one. Now get to work.”

“Sir yes _sir_.” Nyx says, waggling his eyebrows. He grins at Libertus’ eyeroll and scoots off to his post.

The Caelum Corporation is a multi-billion international company, one of the three largest in the world. Their headquarters is in Lucis’ capital Insomnia, where they have a company campus that takes up eight city blocks. They also own their own security firm run by CEO Regis Caelum’s childhood friend Clarus Amicitia. Apparently they were both in the Lucii special forces together when they were younger; Regis retired on took over the then-struggling Izunia Inc., turning it around within six years into a company that could challenge the near-monopoly of Niflheim Exports, while Clarus went into private security.

Which is where Nyx comes in. Amicitia only takes retired military or employee referrals. You’ve got to be good or connected to even get an interview, and if you’re the latter you better be good too or you’ll be out on your ass. Nyx had connections -- he and Libertus became fast friends with a terrifying young woman named Crowe in college, who was in the ROTC program and later got hired on for her magical skills -- and she recommended them when they left the Insomnia Police Force.

Even so, he and Libertus are pretty low in the pecking order. They’ve only been with Amicitia for a year, and four months of that was in training. Nyx knows he’s lucky -- he and Libertus both got assigned to Kingsglaive, one of the premiere units. Kingsglaive guards the main buildings and makes up the reserve pool for the Crownsguard, which are run personally by Amicitia and provide personal security for the Caelum family.

His position in the company isn’t usually something Nyx dwells upon, though. He’s happy enough to patrol the gleaming corridors of Caelum 207 West-A, slowly sipping his coffee as he takes the first of the day’s plotted paths through the building. Which makes the door slammed open into his elbow a complete surprise.

“Oh my gods.” 

Once Nyx recovers from having hot coffee splashed all over his front -- thank the Six for lids, is all he’s saying, because still-steaming coffee in the eyes is not an appealing prospect -- he gingerly lowers his upraised arms.

“I’m, uh, really sorry. Are you okay?”

 _Wow_ , is the first thing Nyx thinks. The man in front of him is that gorgeous.

“Um,” is what comes out of his mouth. It at least has the benefit of not conveying how much he is instantly and (probably) unhealthily attracted to this random stranger. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little wet.”

“Sorry,” Gorgeous Mystery Man repeats, somehow managing to hover anxiously even though Nyx is taller than him. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Hey, really.” Nyx places his dry hand on GMM’s shoulder. There’s a surprising amount of muscle hidden under that suit jacket; it must be exquisitely tailored. “It’s fine. I’m not hurt and I have extra clothing in my locker. All that’s wasted is fifteen minutes and a cup of coffee.”

“Well,” GMM pauses to squint at Nyx’s badge, “Nyx Ulric, thanks for being so forgiving. I’ve got to run, but I’ll owe you a cup of coffee, okay? Are you stationed here all the time?”

“Monday through Saturday,” Nyx confirms. “I patrol, but we’re all in contact at the Security desk. You don’t have to pay me back though--”

GMM shakes his head. “I’ll take you out sometime,” he says, before checking his watch and swearing. “And now I really have to go. See you around, Nyx.”

“Bye,” Nyx says dumbly. The view as he leaves is pretty spectacular. Nyx watches until GMM turns the corner, and then he finally looks down at himself.

“Aw, shit.”

 

“So what happened to you?” Libertus says when they’re standing in line for lunch. The food truck is good and cheap, but staggeringly unhealthy; they only go once a week. 

Nyx unloads everything that happened with Gorgeous Mystery Man. Libertus listens with a nonplussed expression until Nyx trails off, tugging at the braid behind his ear.

“Well?” he demands.

“I was actually asking why you were late this morning,” Libertus says slowly. “But sure, we can talk about your sexual crisis.”

“Oh,” Nyx says after a long pause. Then he recovers quickly, because at heart he’s a shameless bastard. “Yeah, this is much more interesting. So. You’re pretty good at romance. What should I do?”

“Well,” Libertus says. He’s wearing his number seven ‘dealing with Nyx’ expression, which is a mix of fascinated horror and resigned anticipation. “You could ask for his name.”

“I got that,” Nyx says. “I mean, how do I make him like me?”

This is when they get to the front of the line, and they take a break to give the truck their orders. Nyx gets the tonkatsu sandwich like he always does, while Libertus requests the Galahd skewers. Then they shuffle off to the side to wait.

“It sounds like he already likes you,” Libertus says. “Or else he wouldn’t have asked you out for coffee. So you don’t have to do anything.”

Nyx squints at him. “You’re not just saying that to sabotage me, are you?”

Libertus throws his hands up in the air. “And have to deal with more of this?” he says, looking upwards imploringly. “If I could turn back time, I would never have asked about your morning.”

Nyx takes pity on him and allows the change of subject. 

“My neighbor’s cat got out again,” he informs Libertus. “I had to help her catch it.”

“Of course you did.” Libertus slaps one upraised hand to his face. “How are you a real person. Why am I friends with you.”

“You love me,” Nyx says cheerfully. Their names are called from the truck. Ah, yes: good food, tormenting Libertus, and a coffee date with a beautiful stranger. Today is a good day.

ii.

It takes another two days before Nyx sees GMM again. He spends them harassing Libertus, reassuring Hessy he isn’t dead, and cleaning his apartment in the premature hope that he’ll bring someone over for the night relatively soon. When they do meet, it’s… inconspicuous.

“Hey,” GMM says as Nyx approaches. He’s leaning against a wall, lurking like a particularly well-dressed delinquent, but straightens up when he sees Nyx. “Good to see you again, Mr. Ulric.”

“Call me Nyx,” Nyx says. He holds out his hand to shake. “Nice to formally meet you…?”

“Noct,” GMM says, taking Nyx’s hand. He has a firm grip and developed calluses.

“Nice to meet you, Noct,” Nyx says when it’s clear the other man isn’t going to give him a last name. It’s a little bit suspicious. 

“Ah, yeah.” Noct raises a hand to ruffle the hair at the back of his head and Nyx watches, fascinated. The man is _shy_ , or maybe just awkward. Nyx hadn’t realized you could be shy if you looked so good. “You too. Again, I’m sorry about the other day.”

“No sweat,” Nyx says. “You just have to make it up to me, right?” He smiles his most charming smile, an easy lopsided thing that dimples his cheek, and watches Noct flush.

“...Sure,” Noct says. He meets Nyx’s eyes despite his blush. “Are you free tomorrow morning?”

“From work?” Nyx raises his eyebrows. “Unfortunately not. Unless you want to grab lunch instead. Security doesn’t leave the premises during the workday, breaks or no.”

Noct shakes his head with a faint frown. “I’ve got lunch meetings all this week. Um.” He shoots Nyx a look from beneath his bangs. Definitely shy, Nyx concludes, because he doesn’t follow up the flirtatious move with any sort of smile. “How do you feel about dinner? Tomorrow, still?”

“Yeah,” Nyx says, probably way too eagerly. “I mean, I’m free after six, if that works for you.”

“Definitely.” Noct quirks a smile. It’s _devastating_. If Nyx thought he was attractive when he was stressed out and worried that he forced somebody to spill coffee on themselves, seeing him genuinely smiling is like looking at the godsdamned sun. He almost wants to shield his eyes. “Since it’s my apology to you, I’ll let you pick the restaurant.”

“Done,” Nyx agrees, still a little blinded by that smile. Damn, he really hopes Noct-of-the-no-last-name isn’t shady. “Here, give me your number and I’ll text you when I know, all right?”

Noct agrees, rattling off an Insomnia area code. Good, at least it means he probably isn’t a businessman traveling in from across the country. Nyx saves him in as ‘Noct’ and shows him the screen for confirmation; Noct gently grasps Nyx’s wrist to look.

“That’s right,” Noct says, with another little grin. It isn’t quite as debilitating this time. Hopefully with more exposure, Nyx can build up an immunity. “I look forward to eating with you, Nyx.”

“Same to you.” Nyx watches Noct let go of his wrist, those fine-boned fingers slipping gently over the hi-grip fabric of his fingerless gloves. “I should get back to my rounds, but I’ll text you so you have my number. And the address of the restaurant, later.”

“Stay safe,” Noct says, raising a hand in farewell.

“I will.” Nyx winks at him. “With dinner to look forward to, I have to.”

He leaves with the image of Noct’s wide eyes and surprised bark of laughter fixed in his mind.

 

During his break Nyx pulls out his phone to text Noct, just a quick message saying it’s him. It buzzes back almost immediately with a _Got it! See you tomorrow :)_

This turns out to be the only thing that goes right for the rest of the morning.

_“Kingsglaive One-Five to Kingsglaive One-Six, acknowledge Kingsglaive One-Six.”_

Nyx frowns. They almost never have to use their earpieces. He touches it. “Kingsglaive Sixteen here. What’s going on?”

_“Subject of Interest alert, going out to all campuses. Special orders for Kingsglaive to gather at time twelve hundred in the main-east building’s second floor, room two five seven. Other than that I have no idea.”_

A SOI alert? They get those all the time -- generally the press or public nuisances, occasionally a more serious criminal. But there’s an established protocol in place, and they don’t usually merit an entire unit meeting.

“Acknowledge, Kingsglaive Fifteen. Should I swing by to see the SOI?”

_“Yeah, better do so, Kingsglaive One-Six.”_

“On my way.” Nyx signs off and cuts his current patrol short, heading back to the guard room off the building’s lobby.

“So what’s so special about this SOI?” he says as Libertus pulls up the alert. It’s a man with shoulder-length auburn hair with an almost purple tinge to it, middle-aged, fedora tipped low over his face. There’s another picture that captures his profile without the hat: strong jaw, full lower lip, straight nose. Known info: name is--

“Ardyn _Izunia_?” Nyx says, shocked. “Isn’t he supposed to be dead?”

“Yeah.” Libertus switches windows to the web, where it looks like he did a quick search for Izunia’s name. “Two years after Caelum changed the company name. A pileup on the freeway. He died on the way back from the opera.”

“Then...” Given the SOI and the special orders, “Was it an accident or an _accident_?”

“I’m wondering that too.” Libertus’ mouth is pressed into a grim line. “You’ve heard what Crowe let slip about the takeover, right?”

“We shouldn’t talk about that.” Nyx did hear -- Kingsglaive is full of Amicitia vets, and they gossip just as much as anybody else. Crowe gave them the vague outlines, enough to put things into context, and then warned then strongly to keep their mouths shut. Nyx has. It made sense to. Libertus always did have a quick temper, though, and a more strongly developed sense of justice. He might not agree as much as Nyx does with what happened.

“Could be more of the same,” Libertus says. He makes a face.

“I wonder if the police will get involved,” Nyx muses. He and Libertus weren’t in Organized Crime, but they both have acquaintances still on the force. The current Sergeant in charge was Cor Leonis, wasn’t it? Nyx has only ever heard of him by reputation.

“This alert was a tip off _from_ the IPF,” Libertus says. “The Idents sent it over.”

Nyx’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s nice of them.” Police don’t generally share information with civilians, even well-trained private security, unless they believe there’s an active danger. This is getting more and more mysterious.

“I bet it’s going to turn into court-order cooperation,” Libertus predicts gloomily. “Oversight of operations, security, the works.”

“Amicitia wouldn’t stand for that.” Nyx wracks his brain, not for the first time cursing himself for being uninterested in internal politics. “He’s… friends with the Commissioner, right…?”

“Yep,” Libertus confirms. He was always better at keeping track of people and relationships than Nyx. “But it’s not like he can just tell the Commissioner not to allow OrgCrimes into the business.”

Nyx lifts one shoulder. He doesn’t want to underestimate Clarus Amicitia.

“I guess we’ll see,” he says. “It’s probably what the noon meeting is about.”

“Probably.” Libertus makes another face. “Here, take your godsdamned PocComp with you for once, so you can get any more updates without coming back here. I’ll see you at eleven forty-five.”

Nyx accepts the pocket computer and clips it to his belt. “If I’m late heat up my sandwich for me.”

“What am I, your mother?” Libertus yells after him as he leaves the room. Nyx gives him a two-fingered salute without looking back, trying to make the wave as insolent as possible.

 

Nyx is late, and Libertus does heat up his packed lunch for him. They power walk all the way to the designated meeting room in silence, devouring their food as fast as possible. Crowe meets them at the door.

“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” she says, looking at her watch. Nyx blinks.

“What are you doing here?” Libertus voices what they’re both thinking, his accent coming in thicker with surprise.

“Crownsguard is here too.” Crowe shrugs, unconcerned. “Guess the boss wants us all in the loop for this one.”

“Do you know what ‘this one’ is about?” Nyx steps into the conference room. It looks like it was maybe supposed to be a reception hall -- high ceilings to match the lobby, and black-marbled walls shot through with a fainter, pink stone to make it look more welcome. Lights shine warmly from their mounted scones. Any previous furniture has been removed, and now there are around fifty chairs clustered in the front room. About three-fourths of them are filled with uniformed bodies.

“Nope.” Crowe gestures for them to follow. “Figure it’s something to do with Izunia, though. He hates the Caelums.”

“Would he really do anything?” Nyx says doubtfully. “The IPF already know he’s alive and around.” Surely he can’t be so stupid.

“Don’t underestimate Izunia,” Crowe warns. “He used to be a big shot in the community. Everybody liked him until near the end, when they figured out he was the one breaking all the rules. A lot of people probably still owe him favors now that he’s alive to collect.”

They take their seats. Nyx is about to ask what _exactly_ Crowe meant by ‘big shot in the community,’ but right when he opens his mouth the door beeps, locking itself, and the lights dim. Everyone quiets down.

There’s a low whir. The SOI report of Ardyn Izunia projects itself onto the wall in front of them, marble veins showing through to give the whole image an almost diseased look.

“As you all should have seen earlier today, Ardyn Izunia has been spotted within Insomnia.” Clarus Amicitia doesn’t bother with niceties like introducing himself. The reflected light makes harsh crags of his face and his shaved head gleam; he looks like a golem, carved from rock. “We have reason to believe he is acting against Caelum Corp and the Caelum family. Therefore we will be raising personal security around Mr. Caelum and his son, pulling about half of Kingsglaive into Crownsguard for the duration. All other members of Kingsglaive will be temporarily reassigned to other units.”

“Izunia is a credible threat.” Clarus stares out at them. “For those of you who were with me in ‘54, you know what those months were like. If you weren’t, prepare yourselves. Kingsglaive will come to me after the briefing for their assignments.”

Nyx sits through the rest of the presentation with half his attention focused on Amicitia. He memorizes names, security details, and faces; all the while he’s still ticking over what Crowe said before the meeting started. In 754, nothing was going on in the public eye except for a larger than usual crime wave, he remembers. But the IPF knew better. There was a civil war going on within the Yakuza prefectural leadership, and it began spilling out into the city streets. Murders and suicides were at an all time high that summer.

Was _Izunia_ the one who lost? Or merely the one who got caught? Business is as usual now, once again slidingly neatly below the radar, and their relationship with law enforcement is as friendly as it ever gets.

“Dismissed,” Clarus Amicitia says. The lights turn on again. “Kingsglaive, to me.”

Nyx rises and steps into line ahead of Libertus. When he gets close to the head he can hear every Kingsglaive member giving their call-code, and see them receive a folder. When it’s his turn he tells Amicitia, “Kingsglaive One-Six,” and receives his own folder.

“On-campus access only,” Amicitia says to him. “Keep it in your locker or memorize and dispose of it properly.”

“Sir,” Nyx replies. He keeps it shut -- sealed, he sees, with clear packing tape -- until he and Libertus are back in their own building.

“That was interesting,” Nyx says, dropping into an office chair. “Don’t you think that was interesting, Libertus?”

“I think it's trouble.” Libertus drops into his own chair with a scowl. “Go on, read your assignment. We only have ten minutes before lunch is over.”

That reminds Nyx: he should text Noct. He already knew what restaurant he would take the other man to as soon as the dinner invitation was issued, but resolved to wait at least until lunch in order not to seem like a creep.

 _How do you feel about Galahdian?_ he shoots off, then pulls out the multitool attached to his keyring. The blade is a bit dull -- he’ll have to sharpen it when he gets home.

It's still sharp enough to slice open his envelope though. He does so and pulls out his assignment. Kingsglaive Sixteen, report to personal detail starting the next day, blah blah, next page--

A startlingly familiar face stares back at him, intense blue eyes peering out from behind messy black bangs.

_Noctis Caelum._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyx’s ‘most charming smile’: http://data.whicdn.com/images/39716205/superthumb.jpg


	2. second call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nyx has a vivid dream, Crowe has bad taste in TV shows, and Noctis is Noctis.

iii.

“Fuck,” Nyx pants. Sweat drips down over his forehead and rises slick on his palms. “Fuck, c’mon, yeah, just like that.”

The man above him doesn’t speak, just shifts his weight on his knees and drives in harder, punching the air out of Nyx with each thrust. The new angle is, gods, exquisite, scraping tight along the rim up into him, and Nyx clutches helplessly at his thighs, his cock, trying to hold himself up and stroke himself off all at the same time.

“Please,” Nyx whispers, almost slurred with pleasure. He can feel the orgasm approaching like a wave. “Please--”

He wakes twisted in the sheets, half-off the bed; by the time he untangles himself the sweat is clammy on his skin and he’s wide awake. His bedside clock blinks 4:53 at him in gentle blue tones.

“Damn,” he says, hushed in the darkness of his room, and sits back down. He’s still hard but ignores it with determination. What a terrible time to have an erotic dream about the handsome man he met four days ago -- the man who is the son of his employer’s employer, the man whose safety Nyx has been assigned to guard. And the worst thing is this: Nyx can’t bring himself to regret it. Even now he’s trying to figure out a way this can work, because Noct is more than pretty, he’s awkward and shy and has great shoulders, and Nyx wants to get inside his head and learn what makes him tick.

It’s such a bad idea.

He sits there until his alarm sounds thirty minutes later, forcing him to get up and take his morning shower. He hasn’t yet convinced himself not to pursue Noct. Noctis Caelum. Whatever.

“Hell,” he says aloud, “I’ve always loved bad ideas.”

 

Libertus also got temporarily transferred to Crownsguard, but to Regis Caelum instead of Noctis, so Nyx doesn’t see him that morning. Instead when he reports to Main building West he’s directed down the hall into what looks like a private office. Captain Drautos is there inspecting a plant situated in the corner of the room.

“Ulric,” he nods. Drautos isn’t a particularly friendly man, but Nyx likes him well enough when he isn’t chewing out their asses for some small breach in protocol.

“Morning, Captain,” Nyx says. He decides to wander over to the bookshelves. “Are we the only ones reassigned to the younger Caelum?”

“Seems so,” Drautos grunts. “I wasn’t told.”

Nyx nods and falls silent. The books are an eclectic mix of nonfiction and fantasy, military tactics mixed in with lurid ten-gil romances next to histories and political analyses. He tries to find a pattern, and has vaguely puzzled out that they may be organized by a complex system of age, topic, and spine font, but before he can figure out more Clarus Amicitia enters the room.

“Drautos, Ulric.” He nods at them. “Morning. Have a seat.”

Drautos and Nyx sit. Clarus goes around to his own side of the desk, clasps his hands together, and looks at them for a long moment.

“I’m assigning you to Noctis Caelum’s personal detail,” he says finally. His voice is softer, smoother, when he isn’t giving a presentation. “Drautos, you’ll be on the day shift. Crowe Altius traditionally handles that under my supervision, but with Izunia back I want a unit Captain in the role. Take a couple of days to get up to speed -- when I’m satisfied I’ll give you command there. Ulric.”

Clarus’ attention is electrifying. His eyes are clear and blue, and as they focus on him Nyx finds himself sitting straighter in his seat.

“I’ve heard good things about you,” Clarus says. His gaze doesn’t waver. “Your initiative, your creative problem solving skills, your way with people. Noctis doesn’t particularly get along with any of the Crownsguard, and we’re going to need somebody with him day and night.” His lips twist as he continues wryly, “Particularly at night, so you should start working on your sleep schedule now. I hope you’re as charismatic as I’ve been assured.”

“Do you mean I’m going to be the close-contact night guard?” Nyx asks with a dawning sense of -- he’s not sure what, maybe glee or awe, or just an intense sense of irony. He’s going to be spending each night with Noct for the foreseeable future. Gods. 

“Correct.” Clarus rises to his feet. “Report to the Caelum residence at sixteen hundred tonight. I trust you know the address?”

“Yes.” The Caelums have a virtual palace of a house right in the heart of Lucis, the one weird residential area that’s surrounded on all sides by commercial districts. It’s mostly full of rich people, although there are also several high-rise apartment blocks that house those with more moderate incomes. Crowe lives there, he recalls, although he doesn’t know her address off the top of his head.

“Good. Dismissed. Drautos, with me.”

Nyx leaves the room already planning on going back to his apartment and getting into bed. He always was a night owl, a preference firmly established by the time he graduated college, and it should be easy enough to get back into the habit again if he works at it.

Sunlight is bright in his eyes as he emerges outside the building. It was just dawn when he arrived, everything soft and grey, but now it’s a clear blue morning with the sky flat and smooth like glass. He squints, raising a hand to shade his face, until he can make out the low steps leading down to street level. As his feet take him on the well-worn path toward home, he looks up again to see that endless blue and feel the sun on his face and his eyes catch on the bold CAELUM CORP at the top of the office.

Fuck, Noct. He’d texted Nyx back yesterday, after his question about Galahdian: an encouraging _Sounds good! Let me know where and when_. Nyx didn’t text him back.

He pulls out his phone now, opens the app and stares at it. What can he even say? ‘Turns out you lied about who you were and now I’m your bodyguard’? ‘Surprise’?

He opens it at every crosswalk where he has to wait for the lights to change, tapping out messages and deleting them. Eventually he gets back to his apartment and puts it off again to make breakfast.

Afterward he opens his phone _again_ and sucks it up. He’s not going to be a total dick and just show up out of the blue as Noctis’ new bodyguard -- for one thing, Noctis’ surprise would tip off the Crownsguard, who would tell Amicitia, who would kill him. And probably tell Noctis’ father, who would order Amicitia to kill him. So that’s out. And for another, it’s a dick move. Nyx wants Noctis to like him.

 _Sorry for not txting sooner_ , Nyx types out. _Weird coincidence at work, I’ve been assigned to bodyguard Noctis Caelum. Got a picture too. Please don’t freak out when you see me tonight…totally bad situation, but I’d still like to get dinner sometime?_

He hits send before he can overthink it again, then gets up to take half a sleeping pill. He sets his alarm for three in the afternoon and falls into bed.

iv.

There’s no reply from Noct when Nyx wakes up. Nyx tries not to let it bother him -- Noctis could have just been insanely busy -- but his stomach seems to drop into his boots anyway. Then he realizes it’s partly because he’s starving.

Mealtime adjustments: he forgot about factoring those in when reconditioning himself to be nocturnal. Good thing he’s got instant meals in his fridge. He snacks on an apple while the microwave runs, then wolfs the whole packet down almost without tasting it. His stomach could handle more but he holds off. He should eat with or after Noctis when he’s guarding him, and dinner is only in a couple of hours.

He brushes his teeth, washes the dishes, packs an overnight bag, and checks his phone again. Still no messages. Well actually, there’s one from Libertus, and Nyx sends a quick reply accepting an invitation to compare schedules and hang out if they get the same day off. Typical guard duty, even of important persons, has a rotating schedule that allows people to unwind. Otherwise you’ve just got sloppy security when people inevitably burn out.

That reminds him to text Hessy as well, to let her know he might not be able to make the weekend. He winces a little imagining what she’ll have to say about his unreliability.

When he’s done Noctis _still_ hasn’t replied, and it’s time for Nyx to go if he doesn’t want to be late. He grabs his bag and heads out.

 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Crowe says when Nyx walks up the winding driveway that climbs past the Caelum’s immaculately manicured front lawn. She squints at his chest until Nyx realizes she’s looking for the dinky little clip-on security badge he got handed at the gate, and he shifts his hold on his backpack to bring it into view. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

Nyx has a moment of existential terror that she’s also on the night shift and will cockblock him horrifically and also kill him when she finds out that he’s attracted to his charge, but then he remembers that Amicitia said she was head of the day shift. When he asks, she shrugs.

“I live closest, and the evening guard has to actually guard. Plus Amicitia knows I sponsored you so I got tapped.” She punches him in the shoulder. “Feel grateful. I’m putting off the next episode of Lords of Eos for this.”

“I can’t believe you watch that crap,” Nyx says, who just last week binge-watched an entire season of _Imperials Above Us_ and even now still sometimes has the urge to blurt out _“IMPERIALS”_ with the accompanying hand motion.

“It’s better than your stupid conspiracy show,” Crowe retorts, proving that she’s basically psychic. “Anyway, here, come on. Front door is on a fingerprint electronic lock. You should be in the system.”

Nyx presses his thumb to the pad. It blinks green and the door’s deadbolt -- deadbolts? He hears more than one motor turning -- pulls back. Crowe opens the door.

“Welcome to the Caelum residence,” she says.

Nyx steps inside and has to work not to gape. He’s used to wealth, given that he works at one of the richest companies in Lucis, but somehow that’s different from seeing it in a house. There are _columns_ in the foyer, and a spiral staircase: Nyx feels like he’s walked into an actual palace.

“I know,” Crowe says, not unsympathetically. “You get used to it. Come on.” She starts moving again, pointing out the kitchen, three bathrooms, four guest rooms, a living room, a separate entertainment room, the door leading out into the backyard (“not your problem”), the garage and laundry room (“you can use them if you need to”), another pair of staircases, and the second living room the Crownsguard have repurposed into a coordination and security center. They spend an hour there getting Nyx up to speed.

“Okay,” Crowe says, leaning back in her chair and stretching. “That’s pretty much it. You look like your brain’s melting anyway, so let’s finish up. I’ll take you upstairs to meet your principal.”

Nyx agrees. They swing by the kitchen for a glass of water and then climb the second staircase up up to the second floor. The decor here is slightly more normal -- cream carpets, painted walls. There’s what looks like an original Yunalesca painting hanging at the end of the hall.

“Regis has the master bedroom,” Crowe says, and points to a set of double doors. She moves down the hallway. “He usually doesn’t come back ‘till late. These three are technically guest beds, but more often than not Noctis’ cohort stays in them. They’re not here tonight but I’m sure you’ll meet them soon. And… here. This room is Noctis Caelum’s.”

She raps sharply on it, a quick one-two tap. There’s a pause. It doesn’t sound like anybody in the room is moving.

“Mr. Caelum,” Crowe says. She pitches her voice to carry. “Mr. Caelum, please come meet your new security detail.”

There’s another pause, shorter, before Noctis Caelum opens the door.

He does it fast, like he wants to get it over with. Nyx notices that first, and then is struck by the rest: Noct is in _casual_ clothing, a thin tee that stretches over his chest and clings to his abdomen, and a pair of low-hanging sweatpants that reveal the elastic band of his boxers. His feet are bare.

“Mr. Caelum, Nyx,” Crowe says, oblivious to Nyx’s sudden speechlessness. “Nyx, Noctis Caelum. Meet your new best friend for the next couple of weeks.”

“...Hi,” Nyx says.

“Hi,” Noct says back. He doesn’t look surprised to see Nyx, which is... good? Or maybe bad. Nyx has no idea what to think.

Noct doesn’t do anything else besides stare steadily at Crowe. Nyx glances between them before Crowe rolls her eyes.

“I’ll leave you to his highness,” she says to Nyx, and pokes him hard in the shoulder. “Don’t get sucked into his vortex of slovenliness. If your apartment is a mess the next time I come over, I’ll kill you.”

“You can’t kill me,” Nyx says. “Think of what Hessy would say.”

“Think of what she’d say if I told her you were living in a dump,” Crowe retorts, and leaves. Nyx doesn’t watch her go, because as he and Crowe were talking Noct’s features have darkened into a glower.

“So,” Nyx says awkwardly once Crowe is out of sight. Noct transfers his glare onto him. “Uh, did you get my text?”

“Yeah,” Noct says. He steps back and opens the door wider. “Here, come in.”

Nyx doesn’t know what Crowe was talking about. Noct’s room is perfectly fine. There are a couple of mugs and maybe some clothes and books scattered on the backs of chairs and the floor, respectively, but it’s not a _pit_ or anything. It’s also huge: loft-sized, almost split into two, one area clearly defined for sleep and the other for entertainment. There’s a TV mounted on the wall across from the bed, a couch and a variety of beanbag chairs between them, and a wall cabinet with various gaming consoles on the shelves. Next to that is an actual bookshelf.

“I got your text,” Noct says, bringing Nyx’s attention back to him. He shifts on his feet, hands open at his sides, gaze cast to the floor. “I didn’t really know what to say so I didn’t text back. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Honestly, Nyx doesn’t care if Noct replied or not, what’s more important is if he’s pissed. “Unless you’ve decided you hate me now.”

“What?” Noct looks up with a frown.

“If you don’t, that’s great,” Nyx says. He’s committed now, might as well just go for it. “We can’t go out, but I know a good Galahdian place that does deliveries.”

“What?” Noct says again, but there’s a sort of hope breaking through his sullen confusion. Nyx allows his own hope to show in his face, his rueful lopsided grin; tries to make it a shared joke between them. _Ha ha, circumstances suck but we can still get dinner, right?_

“I wouldn’t mind some food,” Noct says, slow, his eyes fixed on Nyx.

“Great.” Nyx’s grin becomes more real. “I’ll look up the menu. Do you have somewhere I can put my stuff?”

Noct gestures at the couch, still looking faintly bemused. He watches as Nyx strides over and swings his bag off his shoulder onto the floor, pulls his phone out, and finds the restuarant’s menu. When Nyx checks he’s still standing in the same place.

“Here,” Nyx says. He sits on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “It’s generally better if you split some dishes. I know what I want, but you should come check it out.”

Noct pads over on silent feet. He looks younger in casual clothing, smaller, and his hesitant movements drop years off his age. He perches on the couch just shy of touching Nyx.

“There.” Noct points at Nyx’s phone. “That one. And… this one.” The movement of his arm as he moves his finger to scroll down pushes his shoulder gently into Nyx’s.

“Sounds good.” Nyx makes sure to bump him back, pressing them together shoulder to wrist for a moment as he pulls his phone back. “Twenty minutes. I’ll text security so they expect the driver.”

“Oh.” Noct’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Not used to all of this, huh?” Nyx wonders why. Regis has personal security on him at all times, wouldn’t his son be familiar with it? But maybe he just doesn’t order food that often.

Noct looks away. “Not really,” he says, and fiddles with the loose fabric of his sweatpants. “This is the first time there’s ever been a threat to me. I wasn’t… involved, before.”

That’s true, Nyx recalls in a moment of clarity. Regis didn’t get into the business the usual way, recruited right out of school or born into it; he was an outsider, a dark horse of a leader nobody knew before he started gunning for Izunia.

“Crownsguard is the best,” he says encouragingly. “We all want to get into that unit eventually, so you’re at least being guarded by the elite, huh?”

“You’re not Crownsguard,” Noct points out, then grins at Nyx’s _look_. “No offense meant.”

“Sure,” Nyx says, drawing the word out.

“Really!”

“I’m hurt,” Nyx clutches his chest theatrically. “You’re going to have to make it up to me.”

“Yeah?” Here’s the spark of humor Nyx glimpsed in that hallway the second time they met. Noct’s face lightens with it, eyebrows raising and lips turning up. “How about a promise for another dinner?”

“Deal,” Nyx says, probably too fast as Noct’s eyes widen a little. Shit. “So, uh. Did they tell you where I would be sleeping? Because they didn’t tell me.”

“It’s here,” Noct says. “Isn’t it?”

Nyx blinks. He’s sleeping in Noct’s _room_. _Noct’s_ room. _Nyx_. In Noct’s room.

Like most things that have happened in the past couple of days, this could turn out to be either amazing or completely horrible. Nyx is hoping for the former.

“It’s a fold out couch,” Noct explains. They both know that both of them are thinking of Nyx sleeping somewhere _other_ than the couch. “We have some extra blankets and pillows… I’ll go get them.”

Noct slips out of the room. Nyx wanders over to check out the game consoles, which are set up beautifully -- all special editions, all top of the line. The King’s Knight franchise has a prominent place in Noct’s game library, and Nyx resolves to challenge him to a game sometime.

“Back,” Noct announces. Nyx turns around and relieves him of his armful of bedding.

“Thanks.” He dumps it on the couch to deal with later. With perfect timing, his phone rings. “Oh, that’s the food -- hello? Yeah, I’ll be right there, thanks.”

Noct follows him down the stairs to the door and Nyx motions for him to stand aside. While it’s almost certainly safe, he really doesn’t want Noct to be killed in a moment of carelessness on his first day on the job. The food handoff goes off without a hitch. Nyx inhales deeply and carries his spoils to the kitchen, trailing mouth-watering smells behind him as he goes, and unpacks everything: spiced chicken curry over rice, kebabs with roasted bell peppers, garlic flatbread, ground nut dips, sweet tea.

 _”Oh_ yeah.” Nyx grins as he finds two fortune cookies. He tosses one to Noct and cracks his open. “ _People are naturally attracted to you._ Hah!” A sly look at Noct shows the other man’s lip twitching. “Are you attracted to me?”

“I thought you knew the answer to that question already,” Noct says. He cracks his own cookie open. “Wow. _A chance meeting opens new doors to success and friendship._ That’s kind of freaky.”

“But a good kind of freaky, right?” Nyx opens one of the kitchen drawers. It’s full of knives. “Ah… do you mind getting plates?”

“Right.” Noct reaches up into one of the wall cabinets, and Nyx eyes the curve of his back with appreciation. 

Further conversation tabled in favor of the food. They both eat ravenously, and when they’re done Noct dumps the plates in the sink. When Nyx makes moves to wash them Noct shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’ll put them in the dishwasher tomorrow.”

“Your call,” Nyx replies. They head on back upstairs in slightly awkward silence.

“...I’m going to change,” Noct says when they get back to his room. He grabs pajamas and leaves for the bathroom.

Nyx strips off fast and puts on his own sleepwear: an overlarge tee and sweatpants. He prefers to sleep in just boxers, but that’s not an option. Then he sets up the sofa bed.

“Well,” Noct says when he comes back five minutes later. “Good night.”

He has _cute_ sleep pants, black fleece with little chocobos printed on them. Nyx suppresses an ‘awww’ noise.

“Night,” he says instead. Noct flicks out the lights.

 

The night passes quickly. Noct is a deep sleeper, which is good because Nyx wakes every ninety minutes on the dot, his watch buzzing a silent alarm against his skin. Each time he sits up to check the room. It’s always clear.

He’s jolted awake off schedule by a blared rendition of the King’s Knight boss battle music. As he identifies where it’s coming from -- Noct’s bedside table -- Noct reaches a hand out from under his bundle of sheets to turn it off.

Five minutes later it blares again. This time Nyx gets up, and the sound of his movement causes Noct to sit up and squint blearily at him.

“What…?” he mumbles. In the watery pre-dawn light he’s just a shape, his hair a wild mess of spikes on one side and his body hidden by a swaddling of blankets.

“It’s morning,” Nyx says, hushed. He shivers a little. The room is cold.

“Ugh,” Noct says, and flops back down onto his bed. He lays there until his alarm goes off _again_. “Fine, fine, I’m up.”

Nyx is unreasonably charmed by his grumpy morning routine. He chalks it up to intimacy of waking up in the same room and digs out his toothbrush. “See you soon,” he says, and slips out to find the bathroom.

The harsh fluorescent lighting stings his eyes when he turns it on, and he blinks rapidly to adjust to the brightness. The Caelum bathroom is as swanky as the rest of the house, all black marbled counters and white cabinets with slate grey floors, somehow managing to look sleek and industrial and also warmly welcoming. They have a fancy toilet with a ton of buttons; Nyx doesn’t even attempt to figure out any of the extra features.

As he brushes his teeth he eyes his jawline. While he doesn’t grow a beard fast like Libertus, two full days without shaving has the stubble showing up clearly. It’s just on the edge of being unprofessional, but he decides he doesn’t need to dig out his electric razor.

Noct is at least out of bed when he gets back to the room. Nyx was afraid he’d have to physically pull him out from his bed, and that would just lead to _so_ many problems. This is much better.

When they walk into the kitchen, Regis Caelum is seated at the bar counter with a plate in front of him. Nyx freezes in the doorway.

“Mornin’ Dad,” Noct says, still sleepy-eyed, and wanders over to the coffee pot.

“Good morning, Noctis.” Regis is perfectly put together; he looks like he’s already been up for hours and answered all his emails for the day. The only concession he has for being in his own home is his suit jacket slung over the back of a chair. “And this must be Mr. Ulric, correct?”

“Yessir,” Nyx says automatically. “But please call me Nyx.”

“Nyx, then.” Regis opens his hand in a beckoning gesture. “Come on in, I don’t bite.”

Nyx walks stiffly into the room and then hovers awkwardly. Should he get coffee? Crack open his pack of energy bars?

“Sit,” Regis says, pointing to a chair. Nyx sits. “Noctis, bring our guest a plate, will you?”

“That’s really not necessary,” Nyx says, but Noct is already sliding another helping of natto and eggs into a bowl. “Ah, thanks.”

“‘s fine,” Noct murmurs. “You want something to drink?”

He kind of does want coffee, but at this point it would be too awkward. “I’m good,” he says instead.

They eat. The natto is really tasty, and Nyx wonders if Regis made it himself. Or do they have a cooking service? It’s a mystery. Crowe probably knows.

“I’m off,” Regis says as soon as he finishes his plate, standing to rinse it off in the sink. They have a dishwasher that has blue lighting on the inside. “Noctis, I’ll see you at ten for the board meeting.”

“Ugh,” Noct says with intense feeling. Regis chuckles and places a hand gently on his head. Noct bows into the gesture and closes his eyes; Nyx looks away from the intimacy of it. “Bye, dad,” he hears Noct say, and doesn’t look up again until he hears Regis start to leave.

“Have a good day, Nyx.” Regis nods at him. Nyx has a mouthful of natto; he waves in farewell.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Noct asks when he’s done with his food. Nyx smiles at his diffident tone.

“Of course.” He claps a hand on his shoulder, taking the excuse to squeeze a little. Noct twitches. “I’ll be back at seven.”

This seems to thaw Noct, and he bumps him lightly in the side. “I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

Nyx bumps him back. "Same here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> \- The 10-gil romance novels on Clarus' shelf are Gladio's :'D  
> \- The "IMPERIALS" reference is to that US History channel show about the orange aliens meme dude: [this guy.](http://i.imgur.com/6mDsX7U.jpg) I.. have a shameful love for that show...  
> \- YES THE CAELUM RESIDENCE IS VERY SLIGHTLY BASED ON SOME PICS I SAW OF THE TRUMP RESIDENCE I'M SORRY  
> \- I know very little about Japanese breakfasts so I just googled. If it's wrong or weird please let me know and I'll change it.  
> \- Fancy dishwashers with blue lighting on the inside actually exist, and I have a friend with one. IT'S WILD.


	3. waiting for him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx meets the Noctis cohort, cats are rescued from trees, and there is a kiss.

v.

Despite getting a crappy night’s rest -- maybe ninety minutes on the dot is too short for a full REM cycle, Nyx will have to factor in how long it takes him to scan the room and go back to sleep -- Nyx is wide awake when he gets back to his apartment. At this point it’s too late for coffee, so he gets out his laptop instead.

Ardyn Izunia. The news articles on him are sparse, which Nyx finds odd. He was head of Izunia Inc. for… some amount of time, nobody seems to know. _Very_ strange. What he does find is pretty basic: Ardyn Izunia was born in Lucis, moved to Niflheim when he was young, grew up to become a doctor before he switched to being a CEO instead. He knows Izunia was probably in the yakuza, so he tries to look up connections to the known leadership or businesses, and there’s nothing. It’s downright impressive.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair and stretching. His eyes feel gritty and dry and he’s having trouble focusing. He should probably go to bed and rest up for tonight.

Just then, there’s a knock on his door.

It’s Mrs. Tanaka from apartment 5C. He undoes the deadbolt and security chain and opens the door, looking down at her upturned face topped by a silver-streaked bun.

“Young man,” she says. She always calls him that no matter how many times he asks her to use his name. “That menace of a cat has gotten out again, can I trouble you to help me lure him back?”

Nyx heaves an internal sigh, but at this point he’s kind of used to it. The cat -- aptly named Houdini -- is a staple of his weekly routine.

“Sure, Mrs. Tanaka,” he says. “Do you know where he is?”

“Across the street in the big sweet gum tree,” Mrs. Tanaka replies promptly. “He’s terrorizing some out-of-towners with their car parked underneath it.”

“Someone parked their car there?” Nyx locates his shoes and gets into them, grabbing his keys to step out into the hall. “Didn’t they see the seed pods?”

Mrs. Tanaka snorts. “Doesn’t seem like it,” she says. “Now Houdini is batting down those spikey balls of death every time they get close.”

Nyx winces. He’s probably going to be hit by a couple of them when he climbs up to retrieve the wayward cat. They _hurt_.

“I’m impressed,” he tells her. “That cat’s got good aim.”

She laughs. “And you know that from experience! Don’t worry, young man, I’ve got a green tea sponge cake with your name on it sitting on my kitchen counter. You can pick it up as payment after we get Houdini back inside.”

The out-of-towners have braved Houdini’s assault and already started up their car by the time Nyx and Mrs. Tanaka reach the street. Nyx catalogues the vehicle automatically: a sturdy tan station wagon like any other dozen on the street, tinted windows, license plate from Tenebrae. AR3NH1. Huh. _Very_ foreign.

They turn to look at Nyx and Mrs. Tanaka as they drive by. Nyx is pretty sure they’re glaring, although the one person he can see in there is wearing sunglasses.

“Well, seems like it worked out for them,” Mrs. Tanaka comments. She shades her eyes and looks up at the tree. “Houdini! Where are you?”

A spiked seed pod falls from the branches. Nyx suppresses a flinch.

“There,” Mrs. Tanaka points with satisfaction. “Third branch from the bottom there on the right.”

Nyx bends down to retie his shoelaces more securely. “This sponge cake better be good,” he warns.

Mrs. Tanaka laughs. “My cakes are always good, young man, and you know it.”

Nyx starts grimly up the tree. After this he’s going to get in bed and not leave until it’s time to go to the Caelum residence again.

 

“Hey,” Crowe greets him at the door. “He’s all yours. Just follow the noise.”

“Thanks.” Nyx doesn’t leave just yet, though. “So can you make this weekend?”

“To meet up with you and Libertus?” Crowe twists her mouth up in thought. “Yeah, for an hour or two. Gotta stay sober though, I’m gonna be driving.”

Nyx shrugs. “We’ll just be drinking beer.”

“Then I’m in.” Crowe waves at him. “I have to go. Have fun and don’t mind Ignis, he’s always like that.”

“Who’s Ignis?” Nyx blinks. Crowe has already slipped out the door. “Hey, Crowe! Who’s--ah, whatever.”

Crowe has always done that, dropped information and left without explaining, but somehow it doesn’t get any less annoying. Nyx shakes his head and makes for the stairs. He understands what Crowe meant by ‘follow the noise’ at soon as he gets halfway up. Due to some mystery of acoustics, the raucous sound of a group of people talking over each other and -- yes, that’s King’s Knight fight music -- doesn’t spill past that point.

His knock goes unheeded at first, and he wonders if he should just open the door when there’s a lull in the conversation. He knocks again, louder, and the talking abruptly ceases. A stranger opens the door.

Nyx blinks at the well-muscled chest in front of him, then tilts his head up to look at the man standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” the guys drawls. He looks over his shoulder. “Noct, you expecting a guy?”

“I told you,” Noct’s voice says, sounding exasperated. “I have a security detail. Hey, Nyx.” He appears behind the stranger’s arm and pushes him aside with an elbow.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Nyx says. He wants to ask why the dude isn’t wearing a shirt, but that would be rude. “You going to introduce me?”

Shirtless dude grins at him. “Naw, you can’t wait for Noct to initiate social interaction, nothing would ever happen. I’m Gladiolus. Call me Gladio.”

Noct rolls his eyes. “Come in,” he says, and Nyx remembers last night, how Nyx looked barefoot in his slow-slung sweatpants. Now he’s dressed in jeans and a black tee.

Two other people are in the room: one blonde and skinny, the other sandy-haired with glasses. Glasses guy looks at him with narrowed eyes. “And who is this?” he says with suspicion and a Tenebraen accent. Ignis, Nyx pegs, according to Crowe’s advice.

“Nyx Ulric, Noctis’ security detail.” Nyx waves. The couch is occupied so he puts his backpack in a corner of the room, out of the way.

“That’s Ignis,” Gladio says, pointing to glasses guy. _Yes_ , Nyx thinks. “And that’s Prompto.”

“Hmm,” Ignis says. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hey!” Prompto says, much more enthusiastically. “You game much, Nyx?”

“I’m alright,” Nyx shrugs. He can guess why they’re asking: King’s Knight VII is paused on Noct’s television.

“Then Iggy can take a break,” Prompto says. Ignis gives up his controller without a fuss; he must not enjoy it too much. “Come on, sit down. You want a snack?”

There’s a chair placed in front of them, piled high with junk food. Nyx declines but sits next to Prompto; Noct follows and squashes onto the couch too. He’s warm all along Nyx’s side. Gladio claims a beanbag.

“Ready?” Nyx barely grabs the controller before Prompto unpauses the game. They’re in a boss fight, and Nyx nearly dies before he figures out who he’s playing: the healer. Makes sense, if Ignis wasn’t very good and they’re depending on offense to get through the levels. Nyx isn’t great at playing healers either, but he knows when people need HP boosts so he’s at least mildly useful.

“Hey, that was easier than normal,” Prompto says when the boss dies in a fiery implosion. He holds a hand up for Nyx to high-five. “Good job, dude.”

“Yeah, nice,” Gladio nods at him. Noct smiles and nods as well, knocking his knee into Nyx’s thigh. Nyx can feel his lips twitch up in answer.

“Thanks,” he says. He looks around for Ignis, who in the interim has gotten up and grabbed a book. He looks up briefly.

“Feel free to take over for me,” he says drily. “They’ll likely appreciate my lack of fumbling.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Prompto twists around to pout at Ignis over the back of the couch. “You should play too, how are you going to get better if you don’t practice?”

“If I haven’t gotten better by now, I doubt I will,” Ignis says.

“He’s got a point,” Gladio says. “It’s been _years_.”

“Ignis has other skills,” Noct says. Then his stomach emits a sound like a minor earthquake. “...Uh. Guess I’m kind of hungry.”

He reaches for the snacks while Prompto hoots in the background, but Ignis gets quickly to his feet.

“Why don’t I make us all dinner?” he suggests. Noct’s hand freezes. Ignis smiles. “I’ll take requests.”

“Duscae barbeque,” Gladio says immediately.

“Lestallum beef stew!” Prompto counters.

“Seafood dumplings,” Noct says.

They fall to arguing, throwing out more recipes: schnitzel sandwiches, salmon teryaki, risotto and chicken. Nyx feels his own stomach rumble.

“They always do that?” he asks Ignis, who watches the verbal scuffle with benevolent tolerance.

“Oh, definitely,” he says, and gives Nyx a cool sideway look. “I don’t suppose you have a request?”

“I’m easy,” Nyx replies, raising his hands. “And really curious to try out what you make now. It has to be impressive.”

“Well,” Ignis says. His tone is slightly warmer. “You’ll have to let me know after you eat.”

“Rock Paper Scissors,” Noct says seriously, and Nyx watches them all face off. “Ready? Rock, paper, scissors!” Prompto is out. “Rock, paper, scissors! Rock, paper, scissors!”

Noct and Gladio tie twice, once with scissors, once with paper. They go again and Gladio wins.

“Duscae barbeque it is,” he says smugly. Neither Prompto nor Noct look too disappointed.

“All right.” Ignis claps his hands. “Off to the kitchen.”

They troop down the stairs after him like ducks all in a row, until Ignis orders them all off on separate tasks: Gladio to chop vegetables, Prompto to find all the ingredients for soup, Noct to get plates and utensils and cookware.

“I know how to make caramelized onions that go great with meat,” Nyx volunteers. This finally gets Ignis to smile at him.

“Feel free.” He gestures widely in a motion that encompasses the counter and the fridge, a benevolent master bestowing access to his domain.

“So you’re bodyguarding Noct, huh?” Prompto opens and closes four drawers before he digs out a can opener. “How’s that going?”

“Not too bad.” Nyx opens the same drawer full of knives he found last night. “I really just met him, but we’re getting along well. Right?”

Noct has his arms stuck in one of the high cabinets. He’s on his toes, jeans tight on his thighs, stretched out, and then he turns his head around to look at Nyx over his shoulder like a shy model of a centerfold. “Yeah. Nyx is pretty cool.”

Nyx swallows and drags his eyes back to his onion. “How long have you guys known Noctis?”

This absolves Nyx from talking almost entirely. He just has to make the appropriate noises to show he’s still paying attention as the other four all share stories and anecdotes, making plenty of references to inside jokes that pass over Nyx’s head. It’s obvious that they’ve known each other a long time.

They make it through dinner like that, Nyx mostly in the background although they make a decent effort to include him. He likes watching their easy camaraderie, likes the way that Noct relaxes and laughs, how he punches Prompto on the shoulder and makes faces at Ignis and Gladio. He gleans bits and pieces of information about all of them: Prompto works for the media department in Caelum Co. and likes photography, Gladio is in Lucis Reserves and recently caught a wild turkey, Ignis is one of Regis’ personal staff and knows how to throw daggers.

“Sorry,” Noctis mutters when they finally trail out close to the wrong end of twenty-two hundred, waving goodbye as they walk down the well lit driveway. “Kind of threw you in the deep end, there.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” Nyx leans against the door, acutely aware of how close Noct is. “Prompto was very friendly.”

Noct huffs a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, a soft smile curving his lips. “He always was more social than the rest of us.”

Nyx edges a little closer, until he can see the individual strands of Noct’s hair and smell the faded spice of his cologne. “You’re just the right amount of social,” he says, voice low.

Noct looks up. His mouth is slightly parted, lips full and pink; his eyes are black in the light. Nyx dips down until they’re breathing the same air.

“Okay?” he whispers. The word brushes their lips together in a butterfly touch.

Noct’s eyelashes come down to shadow his cheeks. He tilts his face up into the kiss.

His mouth is warm, pliant and soft; his skin is smooth. They kiss gently and easily, an exploration, just damp presses of lips to lips. It’s nearly chaste. When Noct leans in and fists his hand in Nyx’ shirt, rolling up onto his toes, Nyx breaks away with a gasp.

“We’re standing in the hall, and I’m on duty,” he says, as much a reminder to himself as Noct. He looks prettily flushed, barely rumpled but with his mouth red and wet. Nyx licks his lips. Noct’s eyes follow the motion and his white teeth sink into his lower lip.

“Not now,” Nyx promises, unable to tear his eyes away. “Later.”

Noct smiles up at him, lazy-eyed and dreamy. “Later,” he agrees.

They ascend the stairs to Noct’s room in shared silence.

 

When morning dawns Noct and Nyx weave between each other in the bathroom as they brush their teeth; after they’re done they kiss again, each tasting of mint. This time it’s Noct who pulls away.

“If I take any longer, my dad is going to come up here and find me.”

Nyx eats breakfast -- omelettes this time -- quietly leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Regis and Noct bend their heads over a laptop and some files. Noct’s hair is dark and wild, Regis’ salt-and-pepper grey, tamed neatly into a coif. From above they look wildly different, but the way they move their hands and the slope of their noses are the same. 

“See you tonight.” Nyx smells the faint trace of Noct’s aftershave as he brushes by him with a faint smile. He smiles back until Crowe walks into the room.

“He’s all yours,” Nyx says, schooling his face into impassivity. Crowe can probably smell impure thoughts.

“Morning, sir,” Crowe says to Regis, and then to Noct, “Mr. Caelum.” When he gets to Nyx, she nods at him. Cold, Crowe, he thinks at her. So cold.

Hessy calls him on his way home.

“I’m at your apartment,” she says when he picks up.

“What?” Suddenly Nyx is wide awake. “Did something happen, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hessy says. Nyx’s heart thumps in his chest, starting to slow as he breathes in deep. “My apartment sprung a leak, they’re going to be working on it all morning.I figured I’d come visit since you canceled on me.”

“Hessy, I’m working tonight. I was planning to sleep.”

“And you can sleep!” Nyx can practically see her flap her hands at him. “After you spend an hour with me, and I’ll even cook you some real food.”

“I can cook,” Nyx protests. It’s for show, and Hessy knows it too.

“You can create sustenance,” Hessy corrects him. “I’ll make you enough leftovers for the week. You can return the favor by coming to visit _me_ sometime.”

Nyx knows when he’s beat. He capitulates and says his goodbyes, lengthening his stride a little. When he walks up his street he notices another foreign car parked under the sweet gum tree, right in front of Hessy’s. 

“Nyx!” Hessy says when he enters the building, and hugs him. She smells like mango scented shampoo.

“Hey, Hessy.” Nyx wraps his arms around her before pulling away to get a good look. She’s changed her hair, growing it out to hang in a long braid to the middle of her shoulders with flyaways escaping to frame her face, and it looks like she’s gotten a tan as well. She always did brown faster than Nyx. “Looking good.”

Hessy eyes him critically. “You too, brother mine. Although those bags under your eyes don’t do you any favors.”

Nyx mimes being shot in the heart and she laughs. They make the short trek to Nyx’s apartment and all the way up to pulling pots and pans onto the stove exchanging the usual reunion talk: what have you been up to, a quick lambasting of the latest politician to earn their ire, recommendations of new books and movies.

“But really,” Hessy says, her clear grey eyes intent on his. “How have you been? I know you had your doubts about working for Amicitia.”

“It’s not bad, really,” Nyx says. “The pay is good at least.”

Hessy rolls her eyes. “You and Libertus aren’t getting that much money,” she says.

“Did he tell you that?” Nyx squints at her.

“Of course he did, he actually calls me. We talk more than I talk to you, which if you think about it is really sad.”

“Sorry.” Nyx winces a little. He’s terrible at keeping in touch and knows it. Hessy knows it too.

“Anyway,” she says, changing the subject in the uniquely careless way she has, “Tell me about the new man in your life.”

Libertus again, Nyx realizes. That traitor.

“What man?” he says, hopelessly delaying the inevitable.

“Your _gorgeous mystery man_ ,” Hessy says, with an unholy grin on her face as she seals his fate. Godsdammit, Libertus. 

“Never saw him again.” Nyx shrugs and pastes a woeful look on his face. “And believe me, I looked.”

Hessay squints at him. She knows all his tells, but he’s determined. If she finds out he’s technically involved with his boss he’ll never hear the end of it.

“That’s too bad,” she says eventually, and Nyx very carefully doesn’t show any more relief than necessary. “I was hoping you’d finally find somebody to balance out your,” she gestures at him, “everything.”

“Thanks, Hessy,” he rolls his eyes. “And what about you? When will you finally ask Libertus out?”

“I don’t like Libertus,” Hessy says, too fast. Her ears start to pink up.

“Please,” Nyx snorts. “You’ve had a crush on him since you were twenty. I thought the two of you would have gotten together _years_ ago.”

The pink starts to invade Hessy’s cheeks. “Shut up, you did not.”

“I did! And the two of you just keep, I don’t know, talking to each other every day over the phone or something, it’s like you’re long-distancing except you’re _not actually in a relationship_.”

“It’s not every day,” Hessy protests, and then must realize how weak that sounds because she shuts up immediately after. Her face is totally red now, it’s great. 

“Well.” Nyx takes mercy on her and doesn’t push it further. “If you asked I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t say no. Anyway, thanks for breakfast. I’m going to wash up and sleep, you can stick around if you want.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Hessy snatches the plate out of his hands and goes over to the sink herself, grabbing a sponge and turning on the tap. “ _I’m_ going to wash up, and then I’m going to make you food for the week like I said. You rest.”

As soon as she says it a wave of exhaustion hits him, enough that he has to blink hard in order to keep his balance. He goes without argument, hugging Hessy as he walks past.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Hessy promises him. “So you know I’m safe.”

“You’re the best,” Nyx replies as he leaves the room.

He thinks of Noct, far away across the city, as he succumbs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am very sorry that nothing has really happened this chapter?? *clears throat* We will be back to your regularly scheduled plot soonish.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if anybody is interested in beta-reading for me, please let me know! I've looked over this so many times I just skip over any spelling/grammar errors D:
> 
> plingokat @ twitter  
> quorumbutton @ gmail


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